A short tug at the heartstrings
by soob
Summary: After Akihiko's death Misaki is left to bring up their child. Feels.
1. Meet Suzuki-san

It had happened without warning. No one was to blame.

Even now, Misaki knew that. Despite the grief which grew everyday, he mustered a smile. It'd been years, yet he still curled up in Akihiko's bed at night, half-expecting strong arms to pull him close. They never did. "Good job, Usaki." The man said warmly, gazing at his son with a mixture of pride and pity. Small, chubby hands maintained a tight clasp on the newly-finished drawing when Misaki attempted to take it from him. "I thought, as it's such a good picture, we could put it on the wall?" He suggested, nodding his head towards the wall already papered with clumsy crayon drawings. Usaki's eyes lit up. "I want it as high as it can go, papa." The child informed his father in a very Usagi-ish manner. He'd inherited alot from the man, despite never having met him. "I'll do my best," Misaki promised him as he got to his feet "let me just find the tape."

Usaki, his violet eyes bright with excitement, tottered towards the big bear perched on the couch. It looked familiar to Usaki, despite only having caught sight of it a second ago. His papa didn't like to look at the bear, he'd noticed. Takahashi Usaki was an intelligent boy, even at his young age. It wasn't a surprise, him being the great lord Usami Akihiko's son and all. Usaki clamboured laboriously onto the couch, which resembled a great mountain to the boy of two and a half. He beamed at the bear in a self satisfied way. "What's your name, beary?" Usaki breathed, not wanting to frighten the creature.

"I couldn't find any tape so I got some string. Maybe we can make a banner out of them?" Misaki called from the higher level in the apartment, wearily tugging a caught loop of string from around his ankle. "Mr Beary, my name is Usaki and i'm two." The toddler said, his voice slightly hushed, he regarded Misaki's as background noise. Without a word, Misaki began down the stairs towards his son. "I think you'd like a hug..." Usaki mumbled, nuzzling clumsily against the bear's stomach. Misaki felt a bite of shame cut into him as he watched his son. He'd tried to provide the childhood Usagi had always wanted but he struggled so. _I expect Usagi-san would be disappointed in me..._ "His name is Suzuki-san," Misaki told Usaki "do you like him?" His large emerald eyes followed Usaki's reaching fingers, watching as he tugged at Suzuki's ribbon with his pudgy hands. "I love him." Usaki answered, beaming. "Is beary for me papa?" He questioned hopefully, turning his piercing violet eyes to Misaki.

Misaki softened. "Yes, Suzuki-san belongs to you now." He chuckled, sitting beside his son and the bear he was clutching so tightly. Misaki's heart fluttered at the expression Usaki wore; that of a disbelieving delight. "But there's one condition," Misaki continued cautiously "we have to change his ribbon everyday."

That was, in fact, how Suzuki-san had come to be there on that rainy day in Tokyo, Japan. Usually his ribbon was changed first thing in the morning, before Misaki made breakfast for them both. However today was different. The downpour had awoken Usaki sometime around dawn. Misaki, being an earlybird, heard his son upstairs. "Usaki?" He called up the stairs, abandoning Suzuki-san on the couch. "Papa!"

Upon waking Misaki had felt pained, a dull ache having settled in his chest. He knew this day would be harder than the last. Emerald green eyes drifted to the calendar on the wall. A single heart was drawn on the current date. The day, November 14th. The red ink Misaki had used three years before was fading. His hands had shaken, tears spilling from his dull eyes as he marked the death of his Usagi-san.

Misaki had never gone into depth about Akihiko with his son. He found it too painful. The few things that Usaki did know came from his godmother, Eri Aikawa. A kindly woman of 'almost fourty', Aikawa was Misaki's rock. She and Usaki couldn't have been better friends. Her large blue eyes, big black lashes and bright red painted lips made any baby giggle. Including Usaki.

On days that Misaki couldn't rouse himself properly, he turned to Aikawa for support. With no children of her own to care for, she never minded spending the day with Takahashi Usaki. She, too, saw the likeness he shared with the late author. Instead of ignoring it as Misaki did, she remarked good naturedly every so often. Being an intelligent woman, she could see the consequences of supressing all personality traits he'd inherited. "Now listen to me, young one. Don't cause too much trouble for papa, okay?" A bittersweet smile lingering on her face.

She'd take his hand and beam down at him when they walked through the park. His Misaki-large eyes would widen in awe at every blossoming tree they passed. In many ways, Aikawa loved the boy like a son. It had taken alot of her resolve to decline Misaki's suggestion that she moved in with them.


	2. Tired

"Papa's tired again today, huh?" Usaki, eight years old now, mumbles, more to himself than Aikawa-san. His pale featured face had adopted an expression of disappointment. The busy diner was full, excited chatter and clinking cutlery masking Usaki's feeble voice. He sighed, gaze drifting to the rain-flecked window pane. The editor, cheerfully tucking into her panda riceballs, remained oblivious. "Tired..." He murmered softly.

"Aren't you hungry, Usaki-kun?" Aikawa questions after swallowing her second riceball. His Kake Soba was left untouched beside his soda. "Why is Papa always tired?" Usaki asked in response, absent-mindedly picking at the bottle's label. It was Aikawa's turn to sigh. "I'll tell you when you're older."

"That's what you always say."


	3. A Horrible Mistake

They say that when the love of your life dies, you can feel it. You just know. They're gone. But that's not how it happens. Not in reality. There's no chill running down your spine, or a flutter of the heart. That comes later.

When Akihiko died, surrounded by the twisted wreck of his shiny red sports car, Misaki was making dinner. For him. For both of them. The fizz of bubbling water soothed the boy as he worked. He'd always hated silence. The crackle of flames, the panicked voices of passers-by and the ever so distant promise of a siren dazed Akihiko.

"Misaki..."

He woke up, cold sweat coating the skin of his back. His Usagi-san had called for him. Tears filled emerald eyes automatically, spilling as Misaki began to sob. The empty space beside him was wrong. He should be here. Strong arms, cool, gentle hands and piercing eyes.

"Is this the residence of Usami Akihiko?" The formidable police officer questioned as soon as Misaki had opened the door. His Usagi-expectant smile slipped and fell. "Yeah- yes. Um, is he okay?" He struggled to keep his voice from wobbling. _Everything's okay_. It has to be. "Can we come in?" The officer asked, already stepping inside, followed by his uniform-clad colleague. Misaki gulped. _Everything is completely fine_. Both men looked reluctant to pursue the conversation any further. The second closed his eyes, sighed and then began to talk.

His eyes stung and his chest ached from hours of crying. He didn't _want_ to think about this. He _couldn't_ think about this.

"I'm so sorry." The first policeman said after the second had finished.

 _Sorry_?

Misaki's legs no longer worked and he slumped to the floor, raw panic and disbelief creeping up his throat. "Is there anybody we can call for you?" One of the men asked, Misaki no longer cared which. Nothing mattered now. _Nothing_. Dimly, he thought of his brother. He needed to know. "T-Takahiro. Call Takahiro." He let his head fall onto the floor. Grief was ripping through him like a hungry piranha. His cell phone, left on the couch what seemed like a lifetime ago, was picked up by the officer.

"Hello, is this 'Takahiro'?" He asked, stooping down to slip a cushion under Misaki's head. Vaguely, Misaki could hear his brother's tinny voice. He had no desire to speak to him. Or to do anything, for that matter.

Maybe if he closed his eyes and shielded his ears he could pretend it wasn't happening. He could pretend that his rabbit would still scamper back home to him. Usagi-san would laugh, waving away the story of his recent death. _This had to be a horrible mistake_.


End file.
